


The Salesman And The Farmer

by PhilipTmoreHuffman



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilipTmoreHuffman/pseuds/PhilipTmoreHuffman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesaro has been in a rut romantically since the Real Americans broke up. Can even a heart-to-heart with a certain 15-time champion help him put his pride aside and go back to the man he loves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Salesman And The Farmer

Antonio Cesaro was taking a post-match shower, having just finished an intense bout against Sheamus on Monday Night Raw. It was a Champion vs Champion match, with Sheamus holding the United States Title, and Cesaro the Intercontinental Title. Cesaro had won, of course, pinning Sheamus after a Cesaro Swing left the Irishman too dizzy to even stand. The outcome should have been no surprise—the Intercontinental Title includes the United States by default, so he was obviously the better champion.

But while Cesaro had been lucky in the ring, he hadn’t been quite so fortunate in other areas. Ever since Swagger left him—or more aptly, he left Swagger—he’d been lonely. He’d had a few flings in the interim, bedding Wade Barrett, Stardust (or was it Cody Rhodes? Ever since Rey broke his nose in 2011, Cody hadn’t had the firmest grasp on sanity), and even Sheamus. He’d hoped their shared European heritage would bring them together, but by the tenth time Sheamus started explaining just who Colin Baker was he knew they just weren’t meant to be.

And so here he was, meditating under the warm spray of the shower, trying to decide if he could bear to swallow his pride and go back to the man he loved. After a few minutes, the water wasn’t as warm, and Cesaro was no closer to a decision. He was just wet. Just then, a familiar face walked in: The Champ himself, John Cena, who Cesaro was no stranger to fighting. Cena pretended nothing was wrong, but he could tell Cesaro was in some serious emotional distress. Cena turned off the water, and turned to Cesaro.

“Hey, Herc.” Herc from Hercules, because of his feats in the gym. Michael Cole even called him the pound for pound strongest man in WWE, sometimes multiple times in a match.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong? Luzern lose the… big… match?” Cena wasn’t all that familiar with futbol.

“No, no, it’s more… personal.”

Cena smirked. “Ah, I see how it is. I’ve had my share of backstage romances. So who is it? Layla? AJ? Naomi?” Cena leaned in a little, waggling his eyebrows. “Or is it Paige? Ah, I knew you Europeans were into the kinky stuff.”

“No, no, it’s… Jack.”

Cena was a little taken aback. “Swagger?”

“No, Brisco. Who do you think?”

Cena almost couldn’t even process the thought. “But… but he’s…”

“…my former tag team partner? Maybe you would not know this, seeing as you only seem to team up with people you hate, but the tag team is an incredibly close bond, putting another man’s life in your hands and yours in his night after night, and sometimes that bond becomes closer than you ever really thought it would.”

“…but he’s a dude.”

“Oh, be a star, John.”

“I… I didn’t mean like that, I just—“

“Shut up before you dig yourself deeper. Ever since I left him at Wrestlemania, I’ve just been in a rut.”

“But you’re the Intercontinental champion!”

“Romantically, John. Romantically. I’ve just been pinging and ponging around from man to man, trying to find what I had with Jack again, and… I can’t.”

“So go back to him. What’s the holdup? You love him, if he’s anything like you he still loves you, just go back and apologize.”

“Heh. That is the holdup. I want to apologize, I just don’t know if I can. It’s my pride.”

“You mean arrogance.”

“…I might. I might.”

“When you’re standing in front of him, you’ll know what you have to do, Herc.”

“…Aren’t you divorced, John?”

John shot him a look and went back to his shower. Cesaro finally turned off the water and started drying off, taking the time to give Cena’s butt a friendly little pat. He didn’t find Cena all that attractive, but he knew Cena would be blushing all day after that.

Later that night, Antonio was pacing the hall outside Jack’s hotel room. He had dressed up for the occasion, picking out a nice dark gray suit and a shirt to match. No tie, of course, this wasn’t a formal affair. He’d also unbuttoned a few of the top buttons to let out some of his perfectly trimmed chest hair, as he knew it turned Jack on. After a few deep breaths, he worked up the nerve to knock.

KNOCK.

 

He waited what seemed like an eternity as so many nervous hypotheticals paced through his head. What if he’s asleep? What if he’s not there? What if I had the wrong number,the wrong floor, or the wrong hotel? Mein Gott, what if he’s found another man? I’ll look like an idiot! I should just-

“Hello?” There was no mistaking the thick Oklahoma accent.

“Hey. It’s… it’s Toni.” That name may have been on his jacket for all the world to see, but he still considered it a private little nickname between them.

“Toni? Cetharo? What do you want?”

“I…I want to talk to Bigg Hoss.”

“What about?”

“An…” The word just wouldn’t clear his larynx. He pushed and pushed, but nothin’ doin’.

“What? An artichoke? An omelet? An erotic frethco on the wall of the UN General Atthembly?”

“An… an apology. I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have broken up the Real Americans, and I…I want you to take me back.”

The door opened. Swagger had a smile on his face, and was wearing the complimentary hotel robe.

“Well? Come in.”

Cesaro came in, and asked before taking off his suit jacket. The hotel room wasn’t that fancy, just a bed and a TV.

“So… should I..”

“The bed?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want.”

“I… I want, alright. I just…” Antonio was sweating a little, as he always did when he was nervous. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, to loosen up as much as he could. “If you…”

“It’s fine.” Antonio let out an audible sigh of relief, and sat down on the bed.

“I just haven’t been the same without you, Jack. I mean, I wasn’t even on Summerslam! I was wrestling RVD on the pre-show! And not only that, I’ve been adrift romantically. I went after Barrett, Gabriel, Zayn, I must have fucked half the roster and none of them were as… you… as you. We had something special, and I was a fool to give it up! Un fou! Un pazzo! Ein na—”

Swagger silenced him with a kiss, a long, slow kiss that seemed to last for minutes.

“Toni, I forgive you. I haven’t been able to think of anything but you thince that night, and I tried, Toni! Goddamn I tried. You’ve learned from your mithtake, and that’s all that matters.” Cesaro leaned back on the headboard, unbuttoning another button on his shirt and seemingly on the brink of tears.

“Oh, Jack. Oh, Jack, you wouldn’t believe how afraid I was to even knock on that door. I kept thinking you’d be out on the town, or asleep, or, Dieu ne plaise, that you’d be with another man!” Cesaro let out a deep breath, almost laughing. “Say, speaking of another man, where’s Zeb? Is he still getting rooms in Motel Sixes, or did he start rooming with you?”

“Ha! You couldn’t tear that coot away from his motels! But enough about him. What did you mithh most about me, Toni?" Cesaro ran his fingers through Swagger’s hair, pulling him closer.

“Not that ridiculous haircut, that’s for sure. I swear, you’re like that rapper, Michael Moore. What’s with that, Jack? Are you going to pop some tags? Are you hunting for a come-up? Are you going to be wearing a garish salmon suit?”

“You’re in no pothition to talk, Mithter Thwithh Money Holdings! I bet you thtill have that tie with the dollar thigns!” They both broke up laughing, with Swagger almost falling off the bed before Antonio pulled him back into his arms.

“If we’re sharing jokes all of a sudden, I’ve got a decent one. I first heard it years ago, from a former partner of mine. Want to hear it?”

Swagger, still in the burly arms of his Swiss lover, rested his head on Cesaro’s shoulder and thought for a moment.

“Sure. What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s about a salesman and a farmer. You sure you haven’t heard it before?”

“Not from you.”

“Well, thank you. So there’s this door to door salesman, right? He sells trinkets, encyclopedias, something like this, it’s not incredibly important.” Jack was idly unbuttoning Cesaro’s shirt during this, and running his fingers through the Swiss Superman’s chest hair.

“What is important is that he’s spent a long day selling these things on the road, and he’s driving to the next town when his car just stops. He gets out of the car, and he opens the hood.” Swagger had unbuttoned all of the shirt by now, and began to stroke Cesaro’s abs.

“He pokes around—well, aren’t you getting fresh, Mr. All-American American!—and just cannot find out what’s wrong. So he looks down the road, and lucky for him there is a farm nearby. So he walks up to the door, knocks a few times, and asks the farmer if he can sleep there for the night, as his car is broken down. Well, the farmer is understanding, and after some thought he says, ‘Well, there ain’t no room in the house, but you can sleep in the barn iffen you need some wheres to stay.’ So he leads him over to the barn—“ Swagger took this opportunity to open Cesaro’s barn door.

“Ha ha. Anyway, he leads him to the barn, sets up a small cot, nothing special, and is about to leave when he stops himself. ‘Well, mister, I just gots one simple rule fer if you want ta stay in my barn fer the naght. Ya cain’t stick yer pecker in any of the three holes over there.’ And of course, the farmer proceeds to gesture to three holes in the wall of the barn. Then the farmer takes his leave and the salesman tries to get to sleep. Well, he just can’t sleep. He’s too tempted by the holes in the wall. So he takes his pecker out, so to spe—”

Swagger then wrangled the Swiss Sausage out of Cesaro’s pants, prompting a nervous giggle from the latter.

“He takes his pecker out and sticks it in the first hole. It doesn’t feel all that special at first, but then it starts to feel very good.”

“Like this?” Swagger started stroking Cesaro’s cock slowly and tenderly, making him harder and harder by the stroke.

“Yes, I very much like that. I-I mean yes, that’s approximately what it was like. Well, he keeps it in there for a while, a good…long while.” Cesaro took a pause to bite his lip and groan a little. “But he starts getting curious, so he takes it out of the—oh...” Swagger had taken his own initiative, and was kissing Cesaro. He started on the chest, but worked his way down, and had settled for a while on the abdomen.

“He takes it out of the second hole—ohhh—puts it in the second, and it feels SO much better!”

“Like this?” Swagger then started lightly tonguing Cesaro’s cock, flicking up and down the shaft.

“Yes, yes, like that! Juuuuust like that! It’s the most heavenly sensation he’s ever experienced! He’s in heaven! Ciel! Himmel! Cielooooooh, and he knows—he just knows—that the third—ah—the third hole will be even better, so he stays—hhhhhhhaaaa—he stays in the second hole for a while before—and I swear to god if you even start to imitate this one I will box your ears so hard you won’t hear a single—OHHHHHHH—thing from sea—nnnf—to shining sea—before he puts it in the third hole!”

Swagger had moved on from tonguing to full on fellatio, sucking Cesaro’s cock at an intense but considerate pace, and at this point he started slowing down, as he didn’t want his partner to cum too soon.

“The third hole is just awful—ohhhhh god—just the most painful thing the salesman has ever experienced in his entire life, just the worst pain he’s ever felt! Oh god, Jack, don’t stop! And the pain doesn’t stop! He can’t—aaaaaahhhhhh—he can’t pull it out no matter how hard he tries! And the morning comes—oh fuck—and—gott in himmel—and the farmer enters the barn to see the salesman crying, cock still in the wall—Jesus Christ, Swagger, your mouth is magical—and he says, ‘Aw heckfire, son, didn’t I tell ya not ta stick yer di-‘—oh fuucckkkkk—‘in any of these holes? Ya see, behind the first hole was my beautiful daughter, the second my wife, and the third a brand new milking machine that won’t stop’—DON’T STOP, JACK, OH GOD DON’T STOP, I’M ALMOST THERE!—‘that won’t stop until it extracts fifty gall—‘OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG!” Cesaro came in the All-American’s mouth, completely unable to finish the joke as he moaned wordlessly, and then started panting before just letting out an “Oh God!” and collapsing. Swagger swallowed before going to the bathroom and quickly washing out his mouth. When he returned to bed, Cesaro had begun to be able to sit up under his own power again.

“Oh, Toni, I’m so glad to have you back.”

Cesaro, still breathing heavily, smirked as he gazed into Swagger’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Hi glad, I’m Cesaro.”


End file.
